


We Will Carry On

by Heavenlea6292



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural, Gen, Hunter Mary, Hunter Mary Winchester, Mary Lives AU, Mary and John roleswap, Role Reversal, Supernatural AU: Mary Lives, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-21 04:52:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavenlea6292/pseuds/Heavenlea6292
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary Lives AU: That fateful night, John went to check on Sammy, rather than Mary. Left alone with two small children, no home, and the knowledge that her husband's death was in no way an accident; Mary goes back to hunting though she swore she never would. She and her boys would carry on.<br/>*CURRENTLY UNDER EXTREME EDITING*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lawrence, Kansas- November 2nd, 1983

**Author's Note:**

> Mary Lives AU enough people bugged me and now I did the things hooray for me

Mary carried Dean into Sammy's room, their usual bedtime routine well underway. She'd already bathed him, put him in his jammies and combed all of the snarls out of his hair and kissed all of his race cars good night, just as he always asked. She could tell that he needed sleep, having been kept awake by his parents arguing over the phone the past few days. She bounced Dean on her hip, trying to get a better grip on his am she walked down the hallway.

"I'm hungry," Dean said with a little smile, his cheek resting against his mother's neck, "Can I have a bed time snack?"   
"You ask every night, and every night I tell you the same thing, little boy!" she teased, "No pie before bed, or you'll have bad dreams."   
"Pie can't give you bad dreams!" he argued. Mary gave him a sly look.   
"My pie can. I put a special ingredient in it that'll give you bad dreams if you eat any after bedtime- and especially after midnight."   
"Like Gizmo can't eat after midnight?" Dean asked, his eyes as wide as saucers. Mary laughed, she had taken Dean to see Gremlins a few months before and he'd loved it. She wasn't sure how the movie went after the first 30 minutes, because Sammy woke up and she had to leave the theatre. But whatever it was, he really liked it. 

"Just like Gizmo," she replied, coming to the door. "Come on, let's say goodnight to your brother," she said, smiling at Dean as she flicked on the light. She set him down on his feet, watching happily as he scurried over, hopping up on the stool next to the crib and leaning over.   
"Night Sam!" he said cheerfully, planting a wet kiss on his little brother's forehead. She came over next to him, rubbing his shoulder as she leaned down over her youngest.   
"Night, love," she said softly, kissing his forehead too. She began to stand, looking over at Dean.

"Hey Dean."

"Daddy!" Dean exclaimed, hopping off of the stool and running over to his father, jumping in his arms.   
"Hey buddy!" he said, lifting Dean up and hugging him, "So, whatcha think? Think Sammy's ready to toss around a football yet?" Dean giggled a little, shaking his head.   
"No Daddy," he replied, smiling.

Mary watched the exchange, relieved that John was home and relieved that he seemed to be in a good mood. She walked over, patting John's arm gently.   
"You got him?" she asked as she walked out the door. It came out a little more sarcastic than she had intended, but who could blame her? He'd started the last fight, in her opinion. But she was sure that John had told everyone at the garage that she was just on her period again, something he said with stunning frequency and had already been punched for at least once.   
"I got him," John replied with a smile, looking at Dean. It'd been 3 days since he'd been home- since the last time him and Mary argued. She was a happy to go back to normal, to pretend nothing had ever happened. It was easier that way; then she could pretend John had apologized and he could pretend that she apologized. It was a win-win for both of them. She started towards the bedroom, standing just outside the doorway and listening to John and Dean as they finished up his bedtime routine.

“You been a good boy for Mom?” He asked, tucking Dean into his bed. Dean nodded eagerly.   
“Yup! I helped make Sammy’s bottles and make dinner and I swept the kitchen all by myself!” Dean said proudly, snuggling down in his bed. John nodded, looking a bit distracted as he rubbed Dean’s head.   
“Good job,” he said, reaching over and clicking off the lamp next to his bed, “Get some sleep, maybe we’ll play catch in the morning.”   
“Really?” Dean asked, looking excited.   
John stood, walking towards the door, “Yeah, but only if you go to sleep.”   
“Okay,” Dean replied, “Night Daddy.”   
“Night Dean.”

He walked out, almost running right into Mary.   
“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I’m gonna go watch some tv before bed, d’you mind?” She folded her arms, shaking her head.   
“Whatever you wanna do, John,” she replied, brushing past him. He reached out, grabbing her arm gently.   
“Hey,” he said, “I’ll be up later, I promise.”   
She pulled away, slapping a smile on her face and nodding.   
“Really, it’s fine. I’ll see you later, then,” she said, leaning up and pecking him gently on the cheek.

John sighed, heading down the stairs as Mary walked into Dean’s room.   
“Hey, Tiger,” she said, kissing his forehead, “You sleeping yet?” Dean peeked one eye open, smiling.   
“Nope.”   
She poked his side gently, laughing.   
“Well you better start sleeping soon, mister,” she teased, stroking his hair out of his face, “I love you, Dean.”   
“I love you too, Mommy.” She kissed his head again, tucking the blankets around him.   
“Night night,” she whispered.   
“Sleep tight,” Dean replied.   
“And don’t let the bed bugs bite!” she finished, standing, “Angels are watching over you, love.”

Dean yawned happily, turning over and snuggling down in his bed. Mary smiled to herself as she closed the door halfway, walking down the hallway. She looked in on Sam one more time, walking into her own room and sliding off her slippers.   
It had been a bit of a long day- Sammy was fussy and Dean was trying to help, but more than anything he got underfoot. She was tired, and more and more Mary felt like she was a single parent. She loved being able to be home with her boys, but she did have a twinge of envy that John could go out whenever he liked without the kids- something Mary could only do if she was going out with John. It was exhausting, always being a wife and a mother. Sometimes, she missed being able to go out as just Mary- but she wouldn’t trade her children for anything.

She climbed into bed, pulling her book off the nightstand and flipping it open to the last page she was on, curling into the blankets comfortably. Being able to lay down with a good book and relax- that was Mary’s favorite thing about bedtime, the chance to get lost in a book for just an hour. She yawned after just a few pages though, the words blurring and her eyes drifting shut. She sighed, putting in her bookmark and setting the book on the table, giving up on getting any further before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Mary groggily opened her eyes to the sound of Sam's crying on the baby monitor, rubbing her face. She looked at the clock on the night stand, sighing softly. She had hoped by now that Sammy would start regularly sleeping through the night, but it was just a pipedream.

"John...John," she mumbled, tapping the side of the bed next to her. It was empty, which didn't surprise her. John always promised to come to bed, but it seemed like he never made it out of the armchair in the living room. She slid out of the warm comfort of the bed, looking up as John stood in the doorway.

"Go back to bed," he whispered, "I've got Sammy."

She was surprised- John wasn't good with Sammy, well, he wasn't good with kids period until they could walk. In fact he wasn't very good with them until they could talk in small sentences. It wasn't his fault; his Dad had just disappeared one day and left him and his mother alone. Mary didn't have a single good thing to say about John's father, at least what she'd heard of him. It was even; in her opinion- John never had much good to say about her father either.   
She shrugged, rolling back onto her side and reaching for the lamp...which was now flickering on and off. She tapped it, think that maybe it was a loose wire, but she was pretty sure she was wrong....and that something was wrong.   
She'd felt a strange sense of foreboding for the past week, and she had no idea why. It was like something was watching her, a feeling she'd always been accustomed to as a child, but since...that night, 10 years ago, she hadn't felt it. She slid out of bed, walking down the hall and peeking into Dean's room, noting the flickering of his nightlight.

Suddenly, she heard John scream.

"Oh my God," she whispered, turning and running down the hall, "Sammy! John!"   
10 years ago she'd made the deal for John's life. 10 years ago the demon said he'd be coming back.

“Sammy!”

She ran into the nursery, seeing no one there but Sammy, fussing and kicking his little legs.   
"It's okay, Love," she cooed, leaning down. She was crazy- the demon wasn't there. No sulfur, no demonic omens in the area for the past month, no black smoke. Sammy was just fussy and she needed some sleep, she must’ve imagined John saying he was gonna take care of Sam, and the scream must’ve came from whatever tv show he was watching. She sighed to herself- she’d have to tell him to turn down the damn television when the kids were sleeping.

She saw something drip on the pillow next to Sammy's head, leaning forward and touching it. Blood. She leaned forwards more and started feeling the drip on her head.

"No…" she whispered, standing and looking up hesitantly.

She let out a scream at the sight of her bleeding husband pinned to the ceiling, his eyes still moving and his mouth gaped open in the scream that she had heard in the hall. Suddenly, the ceiling burst into flames right before her eyes, Sammy's loud wailing bringing her back to reality.

_My babies._

She scooped up Sam quickly, cradling him like a football as she ran for the door and almost tripped over Dean.

"Baby, come on!" she cried, kneeling down and wrapping her arm around his waist. She hoisted him up on her hip, moving quickly down the stairs as both boys cried from terror. She was out the door and across the lawn before the explosion happened, her body wrapped around the little ones.

The neighbors were rushing out of their houses, the wailing of sirens ringing in her ears as she held her babies in her arms and leaned against the Impala.

Her husband was dead, her house in flames, everything they’d both worked so hard for gone up in smoke. She kissed Sam and Dean’s heads, staring at the charred ruins of their home.

"Don't worry boys," she whispered, "Momma has you. Everything will be alright."


	2. It Was My Fault

If she thought feeling like a single parent was exhausting, it was nothing like actually being one.

Planning a funeral with an empty casket, calling what little family and friends they had for the funeral, insurance companies and hospital bills, and the questions from the police- she barely had a moment to breathe, let alone relax.

Mary stepped into the small waiting room, her hand tightly wrapped around Dean's small hand and Sammy nestled in her arms. In the 14 days since the fire, she refused to let either of them out of her sight, much to everyone's irritation.

_You're going to exhaust yourself, you need to think about seeing a therapist, we'll try to get you on your feet again..._

_No._

She didn't want any of that. She knew what was happening and why, and she knew who could help.   
She almost jumped out of her skin when the woman came bustling through the door, her eye laying immediately on Mary and the two boys.

"Sakes alive, girl," she said softly, "You look like you could use a bar of chocolate and a stiff drink." Mary smiled at that, releasing Dean's hand and reaching out to shake the woman’s hand.   
"Mary Winchester," she said, "And these are-"   
The woman brushed her off, bending down to look at Dean.   
"Samuel and Dean. Cute things aren't they?" the woman interjected, standing and bopping the tip of Sammy's nose, "Missouri Moseley. But you aren't here for pleasantries. Come on in, honey."

Mary nodded numbly, holding out her hand for Dean and walking into the comfortable living room-style area. She sat down; closing her eyes for a moment and feeling Dean leave her side. Her hand shot out to grab him, to keep him close- she didn’t trust either of them being out of her sight, not even for a moment.

"Don't you think about running around like some little hooligan, Dean Winchester," Missouri said sharply, making Dean freeze in his tracks.   
"Sorry," he whispered, moving back to sit down with his mother.   
Mary's eyes flew open, looking from Dean to Missouri. It was the first time Dean had spoken to anyone since the fire, even her. 

"How did you do that?" she asked. Missouri raised an eyebrow, an amused look on her face.  
"Oh, he can talk. Just seems Dean doesn't have much to say right now, right Dean?" Missouri said, looking over at Dean. He shook his head solemnly, playing with the edge of his shirt. Mary reached out, stroking Dean’s hair comfortingly as Missouri continued.   
"Dean saw something, and he's afraid someone will get hurt if he tells. But that's okay, right Mary? Dean can tell you in his own time."   
"Of course," Mary replied, nodding, "Whenever you're ready, Tiger." Dean didn't respond, only sinking down in the couch.

Mary turned back to Missouri, biting her lip. How do you tell someone that you think a demon killed your husband and burnt your house to the ground?   
"My house..." she began, fighting tears, "My husband..."   
"I know honey," Missouri said softly, holding out a box of Kleenexes, "And it wasn't what they're saying, is it?"   
"No, I know what it was," Mary replied, "Julie and Mike...they don't understand. They keep going on about insurance money, about who gets the garage...about having to pull myself together. I've never been more together in my life, I swear to God. The only things I care about are my babies and keeping them safe from...it."   
Missouri nodded, looking over at Dean. His face was white and his lips trembling, his eyes fixed on Missouri.   
"Dean," she said softly, "Does it scare you?" Dean nodded slowly, his whole body shaking.   
"Did you see it?" she pressed gently. Dean let out a little squeak, burying his face in his hands. Mary reached out to touch him, but he moved as far away from her as possible, looking absolutely terrified.   
"Dean, nothing will hurt you here," Missouri said as calmly as possible, "This is a safe place where it can't get you."   
Mary looked at Dean, biting her lip. She opened her mouth to speak, only to have Missouri lift a finger to silence her. She stood, taking Dean gently by the hand.

"Dean, since this is a safe place, would you mind if I let you and Sammy watch some cartoons in the next room while me and your momma talk?"   
Dean pointed to Sammy, his lips moving but nothing coming out.   
"Tiger, you're gonna have to speak up," she admonished gently.   
"Is Sammy safe too?" he whispered. Missouri nodded, smiling.   
"Everyone is safe here, honey," he replied, gesturing for Mary to follow her, "Now, you can play in here and watch tv so me and your Momma can talk, is that okay? We'll put Sammy over here in the playpen."

Mary walked over, setting Sammy down gently and kissing his head, before kneeling next to Dean.   
"I'm just gonna be in the next room, okay baby?" she asked. Dean nodded, and she kissed head.   
"Love you mommy," he whispered.   
Mary had to bite back tears, hearing his voice so soft and scared, looking so lost. Her poor little Dean, trying to be strong when he was so scared.   
"I love you too baby," she replied, following Missouri back into the front room.

Mary sat down across from Missouri, the wall finally breaking. She couldn’t keep it in anymore- she hadn’t cried at the funeral, hadn’t cried in front of the police, her whole body nearly numb since the moment she saw John on the ceiling. But here, and now, with someone who could understand, she couldn’t swallow it anymore.

"It's a demon," she sobbed, "It's a demon I made a deal with ten years ago when John was killed and he said that he didn't want anything but to be allowed to come into my house in 10 years. I believed him, like an idiot, and he took my husband and almost took my sons!" she cried, her face buried in her hands. How could she be so stupid? So naïve?   
Missouri didn't speak, instead letting Mary sob the whole story out.   
"I just wanted to have a family, to stop being a hunter and just live my life with my babies. But I know that unless I get this demon, he'll be back. I know he'll be back; he'll be back for Sammy because he was in Sammy's room. Who would he be in Sammy's room if he wasn't after Sammy?" Missouri nodded.   
"But you swore to never make your boys live that life."   
"I know, oh God I know. But...what else can I do? I can’t let them live like there isn’t danger, that’s just asking for trouble…that’s how I lost John, sticking my head in the sand and pretending that everything was okay."Mary looked up at Missouri, the hopelessness she was feeling written clearly on her face, “And how do you hide from a demon?”

Missouri stood, walking over to a small box on her mantle and holding out three bags. Mary watched the older woman closely, her hand shaking. She knew what those were, she’d seen them a thousand times when she was a child- her mother had torn them apart countless times, cataloguing the contents in her old notebook.   
"Hex bags? You...you're a witch?" she asked, her hands shaking as she took them. Missouri let out a full laugh.   
"Oh no, honey. I just knew a few witches in my time, picked up a thing or two when they pass by. I didn't make it, they did, and at a bargain. Keep those with you and the boys at all times, and as long as it's a run of the mill demon, you and the boys should be safe and cloaked from them."   
Mary nodded slowly, thinking hard about it. Trusting a witch was always bad news, but Missouri wouldn’t lie to her- and if they were premade, what harm could it really do? Missouri took out a card and scribbled on it, handing it back to Mary.   
"I set up an appointment for next week on Tuesday. You just show up any time, that's my off day, but don't bring the boys. That alright with you?" Mary nodded numbly.   
"Will this help me catch the thing and send it back to hell?" she asked. Missouri rested a hand on her shoulder. No one had any definite answers, especially not with things like demons.   
"It might."


	3. Signs in the Bowl

"I'll only be gone a few hours. I'm going to a doctor's appointment, anyways, aren't you the one who told me I needed to get out so I don't burn myself out?" Mary said, raising an eyebrow at Julie. Julie sighed, bouncing Sam on her knee. Mary could tell that Julie wasn’t buying her story- but she didn’t really care. This was more important than her health, than Julie’s expectations of her healing. Her children’s lives were on the line and she wasn’t going to let them stay in danger.   
"I know, but this doesn't exactly count- you're going to the doctor's," Julie said, "I meant go out and get some lunch, or a drink."  
Mary shrugged. She never realized how much this level of domesticity wore at her- she loved being a home maker and mother, but now the walls felt like they were closing in and her skin itched as if she didn’t fit in the space right.   
"So I'll get some lunch while I'm out," she replied, picking up her purse, "Sammy goes down at 2, or he'll be fussy the rest of the night and won't go to bed."   
"Honey, I know when Sam takes his nap," Julie said, glancing up the stairs, "You better go before Dean realizes you're leaving. You know that he'll wrap himself around your legs and won't let you go."   
"I know," Mary sighed, "He's doing better. He didn't even wake up when I got out of his bed last night, so we're making some progress." Julie nodded.   
"He still won't talk to me," she said, "Has he talked to you?"   
"He said he loved me a few days ago, but anymore I only hear him when he's whispering to Sammy," Mary replied, sighing, "I'm gonna go. Be careful, okay?"   
"I will Mary, don't worry, It's just me and the boys- what could happen?" Julie said dismissively.

She wanted to grab Julie by the shoulders, to shake her until her pretty little head rolled off her shoulders. __  
What could happen? A demon, a shritga, a ghoul, your house could burst into flames with you and my children trapped inside it.  
She wanted to scream at her that life wasn’t safe, that it didn’t matter if her sofa matched her rug or if her décor came from the latest better homes and gardens magazine. Life is dangerous and scary and there are things in the dark just waiting to plunge someone’s peaceful life into chaos for the sake of entertainment. She sighed, shrugging.   
"I don't know," Mary murmured, heading out the door.

* * *

Mary watched Missouri closely as she putted around her kitchen, throwing ingredients from jars and bags into the tone bowl on her counter. She mixed them with the mortar, glancing over at Mary.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” she said quietly. Mary shrugged, shaking her head.   
“Could you sleep, if you were in my shoes?” she asked. Missouri shook her head.   
“No, can’t say that I could,” she replied, “But still. You need to rest- exhausting yourself isn’t gonna do anyone any good, especially not your boys.”   
“I can’t even think of anything that would do any good,” Mary huffed, “I’m trying to stay positive, but this…I can’t go back to how I was.”   
“And how was that?”   
“Domestic,” she said, “Housewife, mother, playdates and book clubs and cookouts- every time I stand in those perfect houses with their perfect gardens and manicured lawns, I just feel like I’m bursting out of my skin. Like I’m gonna scorch the rug where I’m standing. Like I’m a bad omen.”   
“You aren’t a bad omen, Mary,” Missouri tutted. Mary frowned, tapping her fingers on the stone countertop.   
“Yes, I am,” she said, “John has died twice because of that thing, because of me. Except this time, I can’t make a deal to get him back. Isn’t that ironic- I made a deal for John only to have the demon come and take him from me as payment.”   
“You think it was John that it wanted?”   
“No. I still think it was Sam- I think John was collateral damage. But I just don’t understand, the demon had time to take Sam and disappear, but it didn’t. None of it makes sense.” Missouri nodded, shaking her head. She didn’t know what to say to comfort the woman next to her, opting to finish the spell.

"I'm gonna need a blood sacrifice for this, honey," Missouri said, biting her lip, "You sure you wanna go through with this?"   
"I'm sure," Mary replied, taking the knife from off the table. She needed to do this, to get some sort of answers. She gripped the handle of the knife, closing her eyes as she cut the top of her forearm, watching the blood bead and drip into the bowl. She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, pressing the gauze pad Missouri set out against the cut.   
"Good enough?" she asked shakily. Missouri nodded.   
"Good enough, honey," she replied, mixing it in the cup with all the other ingredients. The bowl began to smoke as Missouri inhaled, gripping the edge of the table. Her eyes rolled backwards as she began to speak in a low, rough voice.

"A yellow house, in your neighborhood," Missouri said, "Blood. Lots of blood. We are coming for the children...written in blood..."

"Oh my god, that's Julie's house! Missouri, Missouri, is that happening now? Missouri!" she screamed, shaking the other woman hard. Missouri snapped out of her trance, looking up at Mary. This wasn’t good, this was very very bad, in fact.   
"We better get there right quick," she huffed, standing quickly, "Leave everything, we gotta go now!"

Mary was already out the door, in the car.

* * *

The door was kicked in, the house in shambles. Mary pulled the gun from it’s place on her hip, the gun she’d bout a week ago for protection, knowing it wouldn’t do much good against the things she was trying to protect herself from- but still, it was a start. She rounded into the living room, letting out a horrified gasp.

"Oh my god," Mary whispered, looking down at Julie's bleeding body, "Sam! Dean!"   
She ran through the house, taking the steps two at a time.   
“Sammy! Dean!”   
She ran all the way up to the bedroom, kicking the door in with her gun poised, ready to shoot. Her children were nowhere to be seen, and she could feel her pulse racing.  
"Sammy, Dean, baby!" she screamed.

She whirled around as she heard the closet door open, pointing her gun at the noise. She let out a sigh of relief as Dean crawled out of the closet, Sammy tucked in his arms.   
"Mommy," he sniffled, "I hid when Aunt Julie screamed..." Mary ran over, falling to her knees and taking her boys in her arms.   
"Oh thank god," she whispered, kissing them all over their heads and faces, "Come on babies, we gotta go. Aunt Julie..." she stopped, breathing deeply, "Aunt Julie is dead, we gotta go."   
"Aunt Julie is dead?" Dean whimpered, "But mommy..."   
"No buts!" She yelled.

She felt awful when she saw the look on Dean’s face when she yelled- he wasn’t used to her yelling at him, in fact she made a point of not yelling at him usually. She wasn’t gonna let this turn her into some sort of drill sergeant, barking orders at her children.   
She took a deep breath, kneeling in front of Dean, "Baby, Mommy hasn't got time to explain everything, but trust me, we're gonna be okay. Mommy has a check from Daddy's garage and we're gonna go far away, okay? So we can be safe."   
Dean nodded solemnly, setting Sammy down on the bed and grabbing a bag, "I’ll help you pack, Mommy."   
"Good job baby, good job," she replied, stuffing everything she could find into the bag in her hands.

She swept bottles, diapers, everything she could into one bag, zipping it up and rushing to the next thing. Dean was helping, and doing well, and she wanted to cry at the sight of her 4 year old son being so brave and serious, accepting that they were leaving and he had to help without question. Somewhere in the bustle, Missouri came in and assisted, both women running around and occasionally bumping into each other. They finally cleared out the room, leaving Mary to put on her baby sling and slide Sammy into it. She kissed his head as she turned to Dean, lifting a few bags in her hands.

"Grab a bag, baby, and help me and Miss Missouri take the bags down. Go, honey," she said quickly, scooping up the last of their belongings. She set Sammy and Dean in the car, looking back at the house.

“Stay put and scream if anyone comes near you, okay?” Mary said seriously. Dean nodded, his hand wrapping around Sammy’s. She nodded, kissing his and Sam’s hands as she turned and ran back into the house.

She searched around for Julie’s extra pocketbook money, softly telling herself that it was useless to her now. She paused, looking around the house that she’d been in so many times, the house of her first friend. She took it, kneeling down next to her friend’s dead body.

"I'm so sorry Julie," she whispered, brushing her fingers through Julie’s hair, "I never meant for this to happen, not to any of us, but especially not to you. You were always good to me, to John and the boys. I can never thank you enough for that. Just…don’t think too badly of me, wherever you are." She bent down, placing a gentle kiss on her friends head.   
"I loved you, I really did," she whispered, "Like a sister. Thank you so much...thank you, Julie."   
She slid her friend's eyes closed, walking out of the living room and looking around.

“Missouri?”   
Missouri was sitting in the kitchen, lifting a finger to her lips to quiet her as she called 911.   
"Hello, nine one one? I just popped by a friend’s house and I think...I think she's dead. It must've been a burglar!" She paused for a moment, nodding, "Yeah, the address is 1897 Sycamore, and me? Oh I'm...” she slammed the phone down, turning to Mary, "Let's go honey, no need to be here when they get here."

Mary nodded, following her out and into the car. They both slid in, and Mary sat for a moment, staring at nothing.

Julie was _dead_.

“Mary…” Missouri said gently, “We gotta go.”

Mary cranked the engine, zipping out of there as fast as she could. They stopped at Missouri's, letting her out. Missouri and Mary looked at each other, silent. They’d shared a lot in the few weeks they’d known each other, and this was a precipice that Mary wasn’t sure if she was ready to jump off of- but she had no choice. Missouri reached out, squeezing her arm gently through the window.   
“Now honey, you go wherever you're goin', and don't you look back. If you ever need anythin, here's my number." She slipped Mary the piece of paper, Moving to the back window and caressing the boy's faces.   
"You listen to your momma, you got it Dean? Listen to her and take good care of your brother and momma. You’re the man of the house now."   
"I will," came Dean's whispered response, "Bye bye, Miss Missouri. "   
"Bye bye, baby," she said, pulling away from the car. She hugged herself, making eye contact with Mary again.

“You will carry on, Mary,” she said firmly, “You’re a lot stronger than you think, honey.”   
“Thank you,” Mary whispered, putting the car in gear and pulling out.

Her eyes drifted up to the rearview window, watching Missouri wave sadly as they drove away.


	4. Family is Home

They took refuge at Ellen and Bill Harvelle’s roadhouse for a few months, trying to figure out what to do after the incident in Lawrence and in a graveyard along the road. It had almost been a year since John’s death. Mary didn’t want to think about it, the beer in her hands long ago turned warm and unappealing.

“You gotta ease yourself back into it, Mary,” Ellen warned, “You’re already pushing too hard. Between Jacob and-“   
Mary held up a hand, cutting her off. She didn’t want to talk about it, not right then.

“Jacob…well. He knew what would happen if he came close. I tried to tell him and he wouldn’t listen. It was just as much his fault as it was mine,” she argued, sighing heavily, “How are the babies?” she asked. Ellen smiled.   
“They’re fine. Dean and Bill seem to be best friends now. He’s even got Bill considering us trying for a little boy.” Mary smiled, nodding.

Ellen and Bill were friends from when she was a teenager, and it was a blessing that Hunters were the type of people who understood when you didn’t return a call for ten years. They’d taken her and the boys in without a second thought, their arms open. Bill had taken a real shine to Dean, and Dean needed that- he needed a man around to help him feel better, to play that game of catch that he would never get to play with his own father.

“I almost forgot…hunters have families,” she said softly. Ellen reached out and touched her hand, before setting a beer on the bar.   
“Yup, and you know…we find ways to make it work, Mary,” she said seriously, “This ain’t a death sentence. You and the boys…you can be happy.” Mary laughed, taking the fresh beer from where Ellen had set and drinking from it.   
“You know, this is gonna sound terrible…but I feel content, in a way, already,” she said, “The demon could’ve killed Sam, it could’ve caught up to us by now, but we’re alive, we’re okay, and my children are safe. What more can I really ask for? I’m not happy, God no, not by any stretch of the imagination. Losing John…it’s killing me, of course it is. But If I had to choose between John and Sam, it’d be Sam, every time.” Ellen nodded, biting her lip.

She couldn’t imagine what Mary was going through and there was no part of her that wanted to know what she was going through. She couldn’t imagine life without Bill, not at all. She cleared her throat, smiling.

“So, I think I may have found you a place to settle down with the boys for a while,” Ellen said, walking over to the cabinet next to the phone and pulling out a folder, “Foreclosed property, a hunter bought it at an auction for cheap and then he went and got himself killed. I’ve…got the deed right here.” Mary looked up, her brow furrowed. Hunters rarely bought property, and Ellen having the deed struck her as odd.   
“He gave you his Deed?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She nodded.   
“Course he did. The property is in Bill’s name,” she replied, “Nice little place in Colorado, up outta the way. Nice school, Dean could start school.”

Mary bit her lip, nursing the beer. She knew it was selfish, but she didn’t want to put Dean in school. She wanted him right next to her, all the time- right now, she was earning her keep by picking up hunts and taking shifts at the roadhouse, but if she could, she wasn’t letting them out of her sight.

“I don’t know if I can put him in school yet,” she said quietly, “I may homeschool him for a while.”   
Ellen nodded sympathetically. She knew that Mary and Dean were attached at the hip the minute he saw her, and she seemed to welcome it. She didn’t blame her- if she could have Jo on her hip 24/7, she would.   
“Well, whatever you think you need to do. There’s a hunter family near there. Lady would be happy to look over Sam and Dean if you ever needed to go out of the area for a hunt. But I gotta tell you, I think you’re more useful on the sidelines, being an information hub. You and your family were some of the best hunters in the area for a long time.”   
“Yeah, I guess we were,” Mary said, picking at the label on the bottle. She didn’t want to think about her family, about the lecture she would’ve gotten for being so stupid, for thinking she could leave the life unscathed. Ellen pulled up a seat, sitting down and resting her hand over Mary’s.

“Look, I know it’s been a hard year and a half,” Ellen said gently, “But John wouldn’t want to see you and the boys like this.” Mary nodded, acknowledging that she was right.   
“I know. But I can’t help but wonder…am I doing the right thing? Should I just take the boys and hide out forever?”   
“You’re doing the right thing, Mary. Stop being so hard on yourself,” Ellen admonished, “Look, I’ll write you out some directions and you can decide whether or not you want to stay there. If you do, give me a call when you get there. If not, then that’s fine. Just make sure you let me and Bill know so we don’t end up hunting you down.”   
“I can’t pay for it, not now,” Mary said, “I don’t know if I can ever-“   
“I didn’t ask you to pay,” Ellen snorted,” God, don’t Bill even hear you suggest it. Mary, you’re family, and family sticks together. That house is just a piece of paper to us. You need it, and we’re gonna give it to you. You just help us out if we ever need it.”   
“Of course,” Mary said, nodding rapidly, “Anything, anything you ever need.”   
“And you need to get a phone up there,” Ellen said with a grin, “This is my first baby and let me tell you, those baby books are damn useless.” Mary laughed, nodding.   
“Thank you again, Ellen.”   
“Shut up,” Ellen said, waving her off, “You think you could do me a favor? Turn that crap off the damn jukebox. It’s giving me a migraine.”

* * *

“Mommy, why are we here?” Dean asked from the back seat. Mary looked over the expanse of land and the large house that loomed at the end of the driveway. They were way up in the mountains, a good 20 minute drive away from civilization and at least 10 minutes from the nearest neighbor. Ellen was right- this was gonna be perfect, a few sigils and safety measures and this would be a good place for her, Sam, and Dean to try and rebuild their lives.   
“We’re gonna live here for a while, Baby,” she said, sighing softly, “We’re gonna be okay.” She looked back at Dean, a smile on her face. She was trying to convince herself and Dean that this was perfect, that it was just like moving down the street- even if it wasn’t. She wanted to bring back a sense of normalcy to her life, to her children’s, and this was the start of it.   
“You get to pick your room. Won’t that be fun?” she asked. Dean shrugged, looking down at his hands again.

“Why can’t we go home?” Dean asked, his lip trembling. Mary parked the car, turning round to completely face him.  
“We are home,” she said firmly, “Dean, wherever your family is, is home. Houses come and go, cars come and go, but family is forever, okay? You, me, Sammy, Ellen, Bill, Jo…all of us are family. And as long as we’re with family, we’re home.” Dean looked up at his mother, nodding before glancing over at Sammy. Sammy was sound asleep, mouth drooped open and drooling.

“Okay mommy,” he said softly, nodding.


	5. October 31st, 2005

Someone was in the house.

Sam looked over at Jess, her arms slipping off of him as he slid out of bed, a bat clenched tightly in his fists. He crept through the house, seeing the flash of a jacket disappearing into the living room. He swung the bat hard, missing the man as he knocked the bat out of his hands. They traded a few punches until the shorter figure pinned Sam on the floor, laughing.

“Haven’t really been hitting the gym, huh, lil bro?” Dean asked, grinning.   
“Dean? Dude, I’m not supposed to see you until next weekend, why the hell did you break into the house? You have a key!” Sam demanded, standing. Dean straightened out his clothes, holding out a hand to Sam and pulling him to his feet.   
“I gotta talk to you about something important,” he said seriously.   
“Can’t it wait until the morning?” Sam demanded, both of them freezing as Jess walked into the room, still looking groggy. Dean and Sam looked at each other, Sam’s expression irritable, and Dean’s lit in a smile. Sam rolled his eyes- Dean always adored Jess, and it bugged him that Dean was always so familiar with Jess, even if it was harmless. He was a bit possessive.

“Dean?” she said, looking confused, “What the hell, you aren’t supposed to be coming over until next week…”   
“Yeah, but I have to talk to Sam about something important,” Dean said pointedly, looking at Sam. Jess shrugged, walking towards the kitchen.   
“I’ll put on a pot of coffee, then,” she mumbled, running her fingers through her hair. Sam watched her leave before looking back at Dean, his brow furrowed.   
“What is it?” he asked, concerned. Dean wasn’t really one for breaking into the house unless it was really important. Dean sat down at the table, rubbing his face. Dean never really looked worried, not the way he did now- he looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days, and hadn’t showered in just as long, stubble lining his jaw.

“It’s Mom. She’s on a hunt…and I haven’t heard back from her in a few days.” Sam leaned forward, a look of concern on his face. Mom wasn’t the type to ignore anyone’s calls, and especially not Dean’s. Dean and Mom were partners and best friends, and there was rarely a day that they didn’t talk.   
“Did you try the backup number?” he asked. Dean rubbed his face angrily, glaring at Sam. What kind of question was that? He wouldn’t have come all the way to California without trying everything.   
“Dude, I’ve tried every number. I even put a lookout on her in the hunter ring and with Ellen. No one has seen her, I haven’t heard from her since she told me she was going out on this hunt, and I’m freaking out.” Dean looked up as Jess entered, setting mugs of coffee in front of both of them.

“I’ll go grab some sugar and cream,” she said, resting a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “Gimme a sec.” She turned and left again, Dean looking over at Sam.   
“She’s taking this surprisingly well,” Dean commented. Sam shrugged.   
“I told her what Mom does,” Sam said casually, “So she kinda is okay with the whole busting into the house in the middle of the night with important stuff to talk about business.” Dean looked at him, shocked.   
“What made you do that?” he demanded.   
“Well, we were both drunk and talking about growing up and I let it slip that we hunted a werewolf when I was 16,” Sam replied, “She freaked out, but when she called Mom and Mom confirmed everything, she kinda figured it had to be true, or she was getting into a whole family of crazy.”   
“She’s still getting into a whole family of crazy,” Dean replied, looking up as Jess came in and sat down with cream and sugar.

“What’s so important that you had to break in the house at 4 am?” Jess asked, lifting her own mug of coffee to her lips.   
“Well, since Sam apparently gave you the hunter spiel already, Mom’s on a hunt and I haven’t heard back from her in a few days. That’s not like her- we usually hunt together but she wanted to take care of this one alone. She said it was just a simple little thing and I should take the chance to relax at the house after the season I’ve had,” Dean explained. Jess looked a little confused.   
“Rough season?” she asked.   
“Dean has been helping train a few hunters recently,” Sam clarified, “And the only way to train a hunter is to take them hunting. Usually he and Mom do about 6 hunts a month, and the only reason they get that many done is because they’re the best there is.”   
“We’d get more done if you’d do a few with us. We were always the perfect team,” Dean said pointedly, but Sam ignored him.   
“But Dean’s done over 30 in the past 3 months. It’ll wear you out pretty badly.”   
Dean nodded, pouring some cream and sugar into his coffee before drinking it.   
“Wow, you’ve got your hands full then,” Jess commented, “But you haven’t heard from Mary? That’s weird.”   
“Yeah, exactly,” Dean replied, “Mom always keeps me in the loop with what’s going on. Even when she does her undercover jobs, she at least gives me a fake name and backstory so we can still communicate. This is not good, not good at all. Last time Mom didn’t respond to any calls…”

Sam cut him off, looking at Jess.   
“Fact is we’re really worried, but I’m not sure what Dean wants me to do about it,” Sammy finished. Dean looked at him, shocked.   
“What do you mean? I want you to come help me find her!” Dean demanded, “That’s Mom out there! You know, Mom? Crying as you drove away to college, sends you care packages every couple of weeks, always giving you a few bucks even when you don’t ask, Mom!” Sam looked down as Jess stood up.

“I’m gonna go back in the bedroom and lay down,” she said quietly, squeezing Sam’s arm as she past.

Dean looked over at Sam, his expression showing his anger.   
“You are coming, right?” he demanded.   
“Well,” Sam began softly, rubbing the back of his neck, “I have an interview on Monday.”   
“What, a job interview? Skip it. I’ll send you whatever money you need, you should be focusing on school anyways.” Sam sighed, shaking his head. Dean wasn’t getting what he was saying.   
“That’s the problem, Dean,” he said, looking into his brother’s eyes, “It’s for law school.” Dean sat back, rubbing his lip. Law school, Sam’s big dream, but this was bigger than school, bigger than them.

This was _Mom_.

“Well, that gives us three days. We go find Mom, get you back here on time, you get to go to the school of your dreams and I don’t have to worry about Mom laying in a field somewhere dying.” Sam’s shoulders sank, looking defeated.   
“Are you sure you can get me back, Dean?” he asked, “I really don’t want to miss out on this…it means the world to me.”   
“Dude, you’ll be back, but we have to find Mom. I’ve totally respected your choice to not be a hunter, but this is family. Family means everything,” Dean said quietly, “You know that. Me and Mom want a great life for you, that’s why when you left, we didn’t stop you or ask you for help, even though we honestly could have used it. Pay Mom back the favor. Hell, pay me back- help me find her.”   
Sam nodded, standing.   
“Let me pack a bag.”

He walked into the bedroom, throwing his things into a bag as Jess rolled over in bed.   
“What are you doing, babe?” she asked, watching him.   
“I gotta go help Dean,” he said, “He promised we’d be back in time for me to get to my interview, and he’s right. I can’t just leave him hanging, not when it’s about Mom. You know how he gets.” Jess sat up, propping herself up on her hand.   
“Do you want me to come along? I might be able to help,” she offered. Sam laughed, leaning down and kissing her.   
“Jess, I love that you wanna help, but there’s not a chance in hell,” he said, stroking her face, “It’s too dangerous, and you aren’t trained. You know what would help?”   
“What?’ she asked.   
“If you just stayed here and kept an ear out for Mom,” he said, zipping the duffel, “And give me a call if you hear from her.”

Jess nodded, getting up and putting her arms around Sam’s neck, standing on her tip toes as she kissed him.   
“Work well,” she said teasingly, “And call me when you find her, okay? I really like your mom.” He nodded, brushing his nose against hers.   
“Okay,” he said, his arms around her waist. They stood in silence for a moment, and Jess finally started to pull away.

“Go on,” she said, “I love you.”   
“Me too,” he said distractedly, walking out to meet Dean.


	6. November 2nd, 2005

They’d exorcised Constance Welch, found their mother’s motel room, as immaculate as she kept their home, research evenly pinned on the walls with strings running between the pins, but no sign of her, not in a few days. Sam sighed from his place riding shotgun, tipping his head back against the seat.

“Look, we did a good thing, sure. But we’re no closer to Mom than we were three days ago,” Sam argued. Dean gripped the steering wheel hard, not looking at Sam. He didn’t know what to say to Sam, and everything that was coming to mind would’ve prompted his mother to smack him in the mouth.   
“Well…I think I know what we’re supposed to do,” he said, “I think Mom wants us to pick up where she left off…you know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.”

A heavy blanket of silence filled the car as Sam started laughing.

“You’re kidding, right?” he asked, looking over at Dean, “Holy shit. You actually aren’t kidding.”   
“Look, Sam…” Sam shook his head.   
“No, Dean, you look. Do you know what happens every Saturday night, without fail? Mom calls me and cries over the fact that you hunt. She knows you’re good, she says all the time how proud our granddad would be, but she doesn’t understand why you feel like you have to do this.” Dean opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Sammy’s hand, “No, seriously man. You said it yourself- you think Mom wants us to pick up where she left off, but you don’t know it. Why are you so obsessed with this?”   
“Because, Sam,” Dean replied, “I don’t want any kid to have to go through what we did. Living a life without a father? Losing your home, having to watch their mother go through so much crap, and all for what? So I can go get a cushy job and pretend that there aren’t dangerous things out there? Not a chance, man.”   
“That’s fine, you can do that, but stop blaming Mom. She never wanted any of this for us, and she tried so hard.”   
“I’m not blaming Mom!” Dean yelled, slamming his palms on the steering wheel, “Look, someone has to take care of her, protect her. It’s been my job since Dad died. I’m the oldest and I’m fine with that- but don’t get in my fucking car and tell me what I’m doing is wrong. Unlike you, all I have is you and her- no girlfriends, no friends. Just you two, and I’ll do whatever I have to to keep you both safe. Don’t ask me to stop doing what I do, because it isn’t gonna happen. We made a great team, and we could save so many people! Why don’t you see that? Why don’t you feel the way I do?”   
“Maybe it’s because I don’t remember Dad,” Sam shot back, “Dad is some mythical being I’ve never met or seen before, but he’s always casting a shadow over us for you. Don’t you ever listen to Mom talk about what it was like before he died? I mean, after we got older, when she realized that believing in a fairytale wouldn’t do us any good? Dad’s dead, Dean. And nothing will ever bring him back!”   
“If you don’t remember him, then shut your mouth about him,” Dean commanded, looking furious. They sat in silence for about fifteen minutes before Dean tried to talk to him.

“Sammy, I-“ Sam folded his arms, staring out the window hard.   
“Take me home.”   
“Sammy…” Sam turned to him, his jaw set in a hard line.   
“I said…take me home,” he demanded, “Jess is probably worried, and I need to at least take a nap before my interview. Mom would be excited if she knew about this, and she’d want me to go.” Dean swore under his breath, gunning the gas.

“We’ve given up so much for you, Sam,” Dean muttered, “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”   
“Understand what?” Sam exploded, “You got to go to college, Dean, you got a degree and Mom was so fucking proud of you, and I just want the same chance to have her look at me like that!”   
“Are you suggesting I’m her favorite or something? Because let me tell you, she was always coddling you-“   
“You both were always coddling me!” Sam snapped, “I’m not saying you’re her favorite, you arrogant prick, I’m saying that she’s a lot stronger than you give her credit for, and who fucking knows, maybe she’s undercover again like she was when we were teenagers- you remember that? She was gone for three weeks and we didn’t get any call because of how serious the job was. Did you think of that? You know Mom’s rules, and the way you’re pushing, you’re gonna break two of them!”   
“Sam-“   
“No!” Sam yelled, “Come on Dean, what are Mom’s two rules?”   
“I don’t need a lecture-“   
“You never go in without all the facts, and you never put someone’s job in jeopardy. You keep running around like a bull in a chinashop, you’re gonna do both.”   
“Fine. I hear you, loud and clear.”

* * *

He sat outside Sam’s apartment, staring at the wheel.   
“Good luck, I guess,” Dean mumbled, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel.   
“Thanks,” Sam said flatly, reaching back for his bag. Dean ran his fingers through his hair, leaning forward and looking up.

“The stars look like they did back in Colorado, when we were kids,” he said softly, “You remember, Sammy?” Sam sighed, pressing the backpack to his chest.   
“Don’t, Dean,” Sam said quietly, “You know how hard this is on me. I need to do this for Mom…I can’t run away from every dream I’ve ever had. You went to college too, you know how proud and happy Mom was when you got your degree.” Dean looked over at Sam, an irritable look on his face.   
“Sam, I just said something about stars…I didn’t ask for you to explain yourself. Look, I get it. You have to do this, that’s fine. I’ll find Mom on my own.”   
“Why?” Sam demanded, “Why don’t you call up Bobby, or hell, I bet Jo would help.” Dean laughed a little, shaking his head.   
“I don’t trust anyone but you on this…but you do what you gotta do.” Sam sighed, sliding out of the car and slamming the door, leaning down in the window.   
“We still up for next weekend?” he asked quietly. Dean shrugged.   
“Depends. I’ll call.” Sam started walking away, only to be stopped by Dean’s quiet voice.

“We’re both real proud of you, Sammy.”

Sam smiled a little, not replying as he made his way into the house. He walked in, tossing his keys on the table and listening to the shower. Jess was up early.   
“Hey babe,” he called out, "I’m home.”   
There was no response, but he figured the water was just drowning out his voice. He laid back on the bed, his arms folded under his head. Everything was right- Dean wasn’t mad, and he’d find Mom easily. He flinched though as a drop of something dropped on his face. He dipped his fingers in it, rubbing them together.   
Blood…   
He looked up, panic washing over him.

“Jess!” he roared, his barely living body pinned to the ceiling, her face blank and white but her eyes speaking her pain. Suddenly a fire erupted underneath her, engulfing the ceiling in flames.

“Sam!”

Dean grabbed him roughly and he continued to scream and struggle, dragging him out of the house and holding him tight.   
“Sam, don’t!” He yelled, his arms around him, “It’s okay, Sammy. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

Sam clung to his brother for dear life, part of him ready to run back in at any moment and part of him never wanting to see the street, the house, the neighborhood ever again. The night was a blur of flashing lights and yelling, the stink of smoke holding a sense of foreboding that Sam remembered, but not quite. Dean looked like he was gonna be sick the whole time, his arms folded across his chest tightly.

“It always smells the same,” he said quietly, “When a house burns. Doesn’t matter what house it is or where…it always smells the same.” Sam nodded quietly, his nails digging int his arms.   
He’d let Jess die.   
It was his fault.

He wouldn’t let this happen again. He wanted revenge- for Jess, for his father…and he knew to get revenge, he had to help Dean find their mother. He opened the trunk, tossing his bag back in.

“We’ve got work to do.”


End file.
